


My Byronic Hero

by LotusFlair



Series: Magnus Season 5 Codas [9]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Age of the Beholding (The Magnus Archives), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apocalypse Roadtrip, Canon-Typical Tape Recorders, Coda, M/M, Martin's Domain, Post Quiet, Post-MAG 186, Spoilers, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusFlair/pseuds/LotusFlair
Summary: Martin finds Jon at the precipice of his domain. The Archivist has gone through his share of silent suffering and Martin isn't the only one having a conversation with himself. More or less.Spoilers thru MAG 186 - Quiet.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Magnus Season 5 Codas [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763854
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	My Byronic Hero

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea for how MAG 186 would go, but, once again, I was proven wrong in the best possible way. Still, the idea works in the aftermath, so here we go!

Martin knew he was at the edge of his domain, he could feel it in the air as the cold aura of his Romantic tableau weakened and blurred. His conscience, or other self, had gone quiet until he was nonexistent and Martin felt a sense of relief wash over him that only bolstered his resolve. It was good to have some space, some time alone to get his thoughts in order. That it came at the expense of those trapped within his domain was information he had to reconcile with, but there was little he could do to change anything at the moment. Jon had been right before. The option to "do good" had never been on the table. It was all just shades of evil and lesser evil. Until they reached the Panopticon, until they confronted Elias, there was no saving anyone but they could at least choose to be the lesser evil as they continued the journey.

And even when they got to their destination he couldn't assume the world could be saved.

There was no room for that fantasy anymore.

The conversation and the slap in the face from reality was necessary. For as much time as he had to himself when Jon made his statements, there'd never been a chance for the quiet afforded in his domain to think. There was always the next crisis, the next domain, the next confrontation, and so on. Just to have a moment alone with his thoughts was worth the brief separation because he was confident in the strength of his relationship with Jon. There was no second guessing his feelings, no fear of abandonment or the cold comfort of forgetfulness. He knew he'd find Jon because he wanted to be with him all the way to whatever end awaited them.

He was almost happy to hear the familiar crunch of gravel until he caught sight of Jon miserably pacing back and forth at the border of a moorland landscape and the void between domains. He'd dropped his bag, crossing back and forth in a distinctly short pattern with intermittent stops and worried looks cast into the fog. As Martin approached, it became clear that Jon still couldn't see him. The Archivist made no effort to reach out when he came closer, unaware of his presence as he mumbled to himself. Even at the threshold of his domain he was capable of hiding, though it wasn't until he saw the tape recorder propped up on the bag that he realized it likely an instinctual reaction to Jon's horror bombing. Better to let him get it out of his system and reveal himself afterwards.

He'd already heard about the people in his domain from himself, requested it in the same way Jon would deliver statements. He was good on knowing who occupied his feeding grounds. But when he started to hear Jon's voice, there was no cadence of a statement. He was just talking out loud.

"What if he doesn't come out?" Jon said to no one in particular. He must've known the recorder was on or at least sensed it was listening, or rather that the Eye was listening. "What if - what if something's gone wrong and - and he needs help?"

Jon paced again; left three steps, right two steps, left three steps, and stopped again.

"I could - I could Know. I could try and Know where..."

Martin felt the static and power gathering around Jon as his eyes narrowed in concentration, only to feel it fall away immediately as Jon grunted in frustration as he continued to pace.

"No - you promised. You promised him. You trust him. You have to trust that he'll come back, that he'll choose to come back to you," Jon said. His self-reprimand would have been adorable if Martin's heart didn't ache at the desperate look on Jon's face.

"Not that he wouldn't be right to stay. He should stay. He should've stayed in Salesa's manor. He should've stayed away entirely," Jon rambled. He sank to the ground, sitting cross-legged by his bag as the recorder continued to quietly whirl. Martin mirrored his position, sitting a few feet away in observation. "It's selfish to want him with you the rest of the way. Self and - and unconscionable. You've put him through enough. Too much. It's all too much.

I-I ended the world! I let myself be manipulated and strung along and all I've done is drag Martin down with me. I keep subjecting him to horror after horror and I wouldn't be surprised if this was where he drew the line. Maybe - maybe the distance is better for him. It's usually what he wants anyway. He doesn't want to know what's happening in the domains. He doesn't want to know about the people trapped there. He doesn't want to feel their fear.

But I do. I feel it. I know it. I hear it. I see all of it. And I can't confide in him. I can't share these thoughts and - and feelings because he doesn't - doesn't want to know. All I can do is sit with the fear and terror, give it a voice for the Eye to consume, but there's no respite or relief that comes with venting. It's just more of the same and-and what's the point of trying to express myself if he's just going to reject me anyway?"

Jon sighed heavily, pressing his hands to his eyes as he rubbed them tiredly. In the old world, Martin was certain he'd have noted how exhausted Jon looked, but there was no exhaustion if there was no rest though Jon still managed to pull off the look of an overworked academic even in the middle of the Apocalypse.

"Not that my...pain or suffering ever made a difference. Every mark, every step closer to Magnus' plan was met with silence and disdain. Everyone I know - knew - either wanted to kill me or leave me so why would Martin be any different? It's better if he stays here. I never said killing Elias would fix things. What if we get there and nothing changes? What if this is it? I don't - I don't think I could bear to look at him knowing I caused all this; that I could've prevented it if I'd just died when I had the chance.

But that's the problem, isn't it? I never wanted to die. I was scared and angry and all I wanted was to come back and-and fix things. I wanted to live. I wanted to see Martin again and I damned us all. Do you want to know the worst part though? I still don't want to die. I would rather exist in this hellscape if it meant I got to keep living because...because if we fix the world I don't think I'll survive for very long."

Martin felt the air escape his lungs even as they froze against the second volley of reality's assault. Jon continued to stare ahead into the foggy moors, but Martin could see the tears prickling at his eyes as his arms wrapped around his shaking knees.

"Maybe a few days, at most, if our time at Salesa's is anything to go by. I don't think I ever expected a happy ending, but...Christ, I don't want to lose him."

Jon sank his face into the cradle of his arms, his whole body shaking with sobs. That was when Martin decided it was time to stop hiding. He reached out and felt the hold of his domain detach as he took Jon's hand. Jon's head shot up immediately, shock surging through his eyes as he took in the sight of the man he loved.

"I don't want to lose you either," Martin said, his voice trembling with unchecked sadness. Jon fell into his arms, holding on for dear life.

"I feel like there's so much to say," Jon said into the rain-soaked fibers of Martin's jumper. Martin squeezed him tighter, trying for all of his efforts to bring Jon in closer.

"There is," Martin agreed, "but can we start with 'I love you?'"

"Yes," Jon said, the smile in his voice obvious to Martin's trained ears. "Yes. I love you, too."

"Good. Now...let's talk."


End file.
